


Sunday Morning

by ScribbledGhost



Category: The Mentalist
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-14
Updated: 2020-06-14
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:14:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29871081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScribbledGhost/pseuds/ScribbledGhost
Summary: Just some nice, plotless fluff with one Marcus Pike. It's what he deserves.
Relationships: Marcus Pike/Reader, Marcus Pike/You





	Sunday Morning

Soft sunlight streamed in through the curtains, coating you and Marcus in rays of gold. Marcus stirred slightly, cracking open his eyes to see you facing him, eyes still closed and rays of sun dancing along your features from behind. His eyes trailed along you carefully, as if memorizing the way you looked. He was sure the vision he found would make it into his next sketch, and he hoped he would be able to convince you to model it for him in his studio later that morning.

Marcus raised a hand, gliding it along your arm as he made his way up to your face. He gently traced along your cheek, placing his palm flat as he rubbed your skin with his thumb. His gaze honed in on your features, and not for the first time he found himself utterly smitten by what he saw. Your brow pinched slightly, a sign he’d come to recognize as you slowly waking. 

“Wake up, baby,” he whispered softly. Your eyes opened, slowly focusing on him as a tired smile crept onto your face. That would surely make it into his next sketch as well. He never tired of seeing your eyes creep open in the morning, searching for him as they slowly shined with recognition as he came into focus for you. 

“Hey,” you rasped, your voice hoarse from disuse as you slept.

“Hey yourself,” he said, bringing you in for a kiss. You reciprocated beautifully, as you always did, and he found himself kissing you several more times before pulling away from you.

“You look so gorgeous in the morning light like this,” he murmured with a smile.

“Yeah?” You asked, “Even with my bedhead and entire facial expression that screams ‘I just woke up’?”

“Especially with those,” he laughed, nudging his forehead against yours. The two of you were always slightly more soft just after waking, not yet tensing into the stress of day. Marcus always did his best to take advantage of such softness, knowing it was fleeting.

The two of you stayed like that for several more minutes, a tangle of limbs and lips as neither one wished to part on that perfect morning. Marcus was frequently awake before the dawn for work, and he took advantage of every day off that he got, namely to spend as much time with you as possible. He knew it mustn’t have been easy being with an FBI agent who did as much undercover work as he did, but thankfully you didn’t seem to mind much.

“I know we should probably get up and do stuff,” he said, still holding you close, “but I really don’t wanna move right now.”

“I don’t either,” you said, turning slightly to look at the clock on the nightstand, “but it’s only 8:30. We could always sleep in a few more hours, yeah?”

“Hm,” he hummed, pulling you impossibly closer, “I’m not really tired either though. Can we just lay here? Enjoy the quiet?”

“Sounds like a plan to me,” you replied, wrapping your arms around him.

True to his word, Marcus stayed quiet, keeping his eyes closed and focusing on the sounds of your shared breathing and the feeling of you against him, warm and soft. He felt your hand softly caress his cheek, and as he did so, he pondered on what he had found with you. He had found tranquility, trust, and loyalty. He had found peace. And he would be forever grateful for the heartbreaks that had led him to you, simply for that reason.

“Say,” he murmured after many more moments in silence, “would you mind modeling for me today? There’s a piece I want to work on.”

“Sure,” you responded, “But let’s get some food beforehand so my stomach doesn’t start growling in a dead quiet studio this time, okay?”

The two of you laughed together, remembering the last time you’d modeled for him in his home studio. He often had you model for him, whether it be in a specific pose or just something natural. He told you that it was to help him with quick candid sketches, but somehow your face always wound up more detailed than that excuse would warrant.

The two of you got out of bed slowly, taking your time to stretch and truly wake before moving on with your day. Marcus busied himself in the kitchen making you breakfast while you showered, and as the two of you ate, you discussed what your plans were for the day aside from your impending art session. It had been too long since the two of you were able to have a proper date night, and it was decided that dinner and a movie were in order later on that evening.

Later on, when the two of you made your way to Marcus’s studio, he had you drape yourself with a white cloth and lay down like you had been this morning. He maneuvered his light setup behind you, attempting to recreate the light of dawn over your skin. As he sat and began to sketch your shapes, he caught you looking at him with a smile that he quickly returned. The two of you fell into easy conversation punctuated with peaceful points of silence, and there were several times where he thought you might fall asleep in the position you were in. If you did, he certainly wouldn’t mind.

Marcus knew deep within himself that one day he would get up the courage to ask you to marry him. He could imagine no better way to spend the rest of his life than waking up next to you on lazy mornings, or stealing sleepy kisses from you just as he left for work. But for now he was content to simply exist in the same time and space as you, and if there was one fact Marcus knew above all else, it was that whoever had created your image was a far better artist than any he would ever see in his lifetime.


End file.
